In a Hopeless Place
by brokeandhungry
Summary: Set after Season 2. Angela remembers FBI Agent Dom Dipierro's words and in a moment of despair seeks out her help. Four chapters, more to come!
1. Chapter 1

Mr. Robot

Set after season 2

Pairing: Dominique Dipierro, Angela Moss

First Fic, English not mother tongue, just a trial run, just because there was no fic about these two!

"Alexa, call Wu's"

Dom had not eaten all day and could have gone without food even longer, but her conscience, in the shape of Santiago and his taunting glances, made her leave the office and go home. She ordered the usual and undressed to step into the shower. When she caught her own reflection in the mirror, she suddenly snapped out of her everlasting thoughts about the case and grew conscious of herself and the present - the right here, the right now. It was an odd sensation, confusing and overwhelming. She made a face at herself and shook her ginger locks to rid the unwelcome feeling.  
The shampoo was foaming and coronated her head and she had just gone back to contemplating all the details of the case, when the door bell rang. Wu was fast, she noted annoyed, wrapped a towel around her dripping body and tipptoed, cursing - to the door to hit the buzzer. While waiting for the delivery guy to climb the stairs she hurried back to the bathroom to put on a shirt and a pair of jeans. The fabric of the T-shirt soaked up the water and clung to her bare skin. Still cussing, she went to open the door.

"Did you beam yourself over h- .." she stopped mid-sentence, dazed by the sight of the figure standing at her door in front of her. Big blue eyes stared back at her and for a moment neither of them said a word. Dom looked her opposite up and down and tried to make sense of the image the open door revealed to her. Angela Moss tried to appear composed, her chin up high, her posture upright, but her eyes were gleaming and her voice cracked when she finally spoke. "I didn't know where else to go" she said and, overcome by embarrassment, worry and pain - or was it fear - she turned away and looked to the ground. Dom, still baffled by her appearing and even more by her appearance noticed Angela was slightly starting to shake and finally stepped aside to let her in.

By the time the detective had offered her visitor to sit down and a drink of water, she knew something really bad must have happened. The blonde young woman sat stiffly on the edge of her couch and stared into blankness, crying silently, motionlessly. The sight of the helpless girl sitting on her couch stirred her insides and even though she knew Angela was a witness, or even a suspect in the case, she felt the need to console and protect her.  
She sat down beside Angela and handed her the glass of water she had got in the kitchen. Angela took it but just kept it in her hand without drinking. Carefully Dom tried to get through to the apathetic woman next to her. "You wanna tell me what happened?" she asked softly, trying to catch Angela's gaze.  
After what felt like an eternity of silence, when Dom didn't even expect an answer anymore, Angela slowly turned her head, locked her eyes onto hers and said tonelessly: "He's not gonna make it". As if awakened by her own voice and the sentence she had just uttered she seemed to realize the devastating truth of her own words. Her eyes grew even larger, her face turned into a grimace of agony and she doubled over in pain, forgetting herself, her posture, who she was supposed to be. She started to sob uncontrollably, barely able to breathe. Dom did not know what else to do than to let her instincts take over. So she pulled the woman into her arms and stroked her back over and over again making calming sounds and whispering calming words. "Shhhh…shhh….it's gonna be alright, you're gonna be alright". Angela now was limp and heavy in her arms, letting go of all her weight, wanting - needing the comfort of Dom's embrace. Dom's already wet shirt grew wetter, where Angela cried on it. But her sobs eventually, slowly subsided.  
Before she heard them, she felt Angela's words warm against her collarbone. "I'm sorry", she merely whispered. "I'm so sorry".

That was all. She did not say more. Not even later, when she had calmed down and sat back, exhausted and drained from crying, from her pain and her sorrow. She drank the whiskey, Dom offered her and she took the blanket Dom offered her. She took the shelter Dom offered her and she took the time, space and care Dom offered her.

Her patience really was put to the test that night. The urge of finding out what the hell was going on almost made her go insane. But something told her to stay calm and wait for things to fall into pieces. And it felt strangely good to - for once - not be the analytic, fact-driven, sassy FBI agent, but a human being who was helping out another human being. At least until she would be able to figure the whole mess out.  
Not being used to being surrounded and confronted by such an amount and intensity of emotions, she felt drained herself. She had one last sip of whiskey, took one last glance at the sleeping woman on her couch and then went to sleep herself. Before the whiskey and the exhaustion turned the events of the day into a soup of thoughts and pictures, she suddenly realized that Wu never delivered the food that she had ordered. Too sleepy to wonder enough to stay awake, she drifted off into dreamless sleep.


	2. Chapter 2

"Alexa, what time is it?"

The sound of running water had woken her up. It was only 5.15, and still dark outside. She rolled over and groaned, closed her eyes, half fading back into doze and half listening to the noises coming from somewhere in her apartment. When she realized the sounds came from her visitor, collecting her things and getting ready to leave, she suddenly was wide awake, jumped up and ran over to the apartment door, where Angela was just about to head out. Angela's movements were slow, calm, her demeanor did not show that she felt caught red-handed. She just stood by the door and looked at Dom, rather expressionless. But when she spoke, her voice and her words sounded proud and composed and Dom knew she had gained back her control. "I need to take care of some things." She paused and then: "I take it that…this…here…is not going to be part of your investigation?! " Dom was dumbfounded at the change of her attitude and behavior. Angela seemed so collected and determined, that it was hardly believable that the same person, the same woman…girl…had been lying…broken…in her arms, crying, just a couple of hours ago. It took her forever to find the right answer and when she gave it, it was rather her guts answering than her brain. "No." she simply said, holding Angela's gaze until the blonde turned around and stepped outside to make her way down the stairwell.

For several minutes, Dom just stood, staring into the empty hallway in front of her, not really knowing what to make of all of this. She felt drawn to that woman's vulnerability and at the same time was astounded by her strength and ability to put on a mask of bravery and control. And she still had no clue how she fitted in the whole five/nine case.

"He's not gonna make it" she had said. Who was he? And what had happened to him? Was he dead by now? Shouldn't she, after all, find out more about this? It could be, it probably was relevant to the case. She should have followed Angela, or still have had her closely observed. A ton of facts just made no sense yet. Especially Angela's role in this case. Friends since her childhood with the Aldersons, who definitely were the protagonists and main suspects of the nine/five hack. But on the other hand working for E Corps, the very conglomerate, fsociety was trying to harm and take down? Was Elliot Alderson in a life-threatening situation and that's what devastated her? Or was she maybe even close to Tyrell Wellick and his life was in danger? Or was it neither of them? And if it was one of them, wouldn't she have been the key to finding them?  
"Are you going to talk at all, or what?" Dom snapped out of her thoughts and faced an impatient and irritated looking Darlene. "You're not talking" Dom retaliated and was in turn answered by two rolling grey eyes. Dom sighed, grabbed her bag to pull out a lollipop knowing this was going to be another nerve wrecking day of interrogation and trying to crack the stubborn, teenager-like, but also troubled and highly intelligent Darlene Alderson.

When she made her way home that night, she wasn't nearly as much advanced in the case as the last couple of days had actually promised. For the last few months she had been obsessed with this case, lived solely to solve it, had forgotten how to be anything else, anyone else than FBI Agent Dominique Dipierro. This was not new to her, but the intensity of the need to sort out the case, the way her heart was in it and felt deeply connected with the people involved in it, startled her and often left her feeling choked and restless.  
Dom had made her way up to her apartment and was fumbling for her keys when she, from the corner of her eyes, saw someone sitting on the steps leading up to the next landing. Surprised she turned around and her eyes met Angela Moss's blue eyes staring back at her.  
"Hi", Dom said just a little bit too excited and then was awkwardly aware of the inappropriate smile spread across her face. Angela hadn't seemed to notice, she just slowly got up and wordlessly took a step towards Dom. She looked so fragile and delicate, it drew away Dom's breath. As her opposite still didn't seem to be able to make any kind of statement, Dom took charge of the situation and turned to unlock the door, pushed it open and gestured Angela to step in.


	3. Chapter 3

"Alexa, turn up the heater to 70"

"Are you hungry? I would call Wu, but it seems he is indisposed. Had I known you would be my guest again, I would have got some gyros at Nia's. I can offer you a PBJ and a drink. Are you thirsty? Do you want some water? Or whisky? I sure could use a drink…" She paused and her heart sank when she saw Angela's empty and lost expression, her clenched fists and tight features. Instinctively she walked over to her and slowly, carefully took her hand, which was ice-cold and sweaty, into hers. The gesture finally caught the blonde's attention and she looked straight into Dom's concerned eyes.  
The affectionate touch and the caring look on Dom's face once again made her lose her guard. At this point she did not even care anymore. This at least was something she could feel. And she needed to feel something. Anything. Or she might as well have just ceased to exist, or been swallowed whole by nothingness. Tears ran hotly down her pale cheeks and when Dom raised her other hand to tenderly wipe them away, she closed her eyes and leaned into the gentle touch.  
Puzzled by the tension of the moment and Angela's emotional surrender Dom pulled herself together, ignoring the tugging and the rising longing in her stomach and in her chest with all of her might and turned, still holding Angela's hand to lead her to the couch.  
She wanted to be there for her, help her, not confuse her even more. When they sat down and finally let go off each others hands she softly and calmly said: "You know, sooner or later, you're gonna have to tell me, what's going on". Angela slightly nodded, took a deep breath and tried hard to compose herself. "Thank you" she simply said with an honest and grateful look on her face. Dom smirked at her not really knowing what she was thankful for. So far she had not found a way to really help the woman. If anything her motives to keep her close and give her time, were rather selfish and not of the heroic kind. She still hoped Angela would be of some kind of assistance with solving the case. Aside from that, despite the fragile condition her visitor currently found herself in, her presence filled her with thrill and wonder and curiosity.  
"I'll make us some tea, the best comfort in any situation, my Mom used to say" , she smiled encouragingly and got up to make her way to the kitchen.

This is just not right, she thought to herself while filling the kettle with water. She is a suspect for God's sake, she obviously has something to hide. I can't be her friend, I can't be her shoulder to cry on. I can't be… - one cup of tea and then I'll send her home.  
"I hope you like chamomile" she said returning from the kitchen, setting two steaming mugs of tea on the coffee table. Angela gave an absent-minded nod and a half-smile and then, staring rather past Dom than at her, blankly said:"You were right, you are my one last option". Before Dom could respond, Angela raised her hands, pressed them to her face and groaned. Her words came muffled:" God, I'm such a mess". She then laughed mirthlessly, almost hysterically, looking down at herself and sounding ashamed:"I haven't showered…or changed in three days. I literally have nowhere to go". "What happened to your fancy place?", Dom bit her tongue and hoped her comment didn't sound too sarcastic and dismissive. But Angela had sensed the FBI agent's tone and was suddenly very aware again, of whom she was speaking to. Her facial expression hardened and she cooly said:" It's gone…it's all gone". Dom, realizing that she had to be sensitive and patient to get through to Angela, abandoned her intentions, sighed, got up and started walking towards the bathroom. "Okay then, let's put you into some fresh clothes and get some food into you."  
Hesitantly Angela rose from the couch, weighing up once again her barely existing options. But when she caught Dom's honest and sincere look, she made the decision to trust her, for now, and followed her into the bathroom.

Dom sized her up, suppressing the urge to keep her eyes longer on the blonde's slender body than necessary and handed her a clean pair of grey sweat pants and a plain white t-shirt. "I keep the water temperature at a hundred, if that's too hot for you, just turn it down over here." Dom showed her the complicated and modern looking shower installation and to her surprise Angela raised her brows and almost playfully retorted:"Speaking of fancy place, huh?" Dom softly chuckled, put a big bath towel on the shelf next to the sink and said:" Take your time, I'll be in the kitchen, trying to find something edible."  
She stepped outside, closed the door behind her and stood still for a moment, trying to contain the ineligible feelings arising somewhere deep inside her. She rubbed her already blushed cheeks, grabbed and ruffled her hair and exhaled heavily. "What am I doing?" she mumbled to herself in sheer bafflement and shaking her head in disbelief and self-ridicule, she made her way to the kitchen.


	4. Chapter 4

"Alexa, find me a decent pancake recipe"

It had been forever since she had last prepared a meal herself. But she used to make pretty delicious pancakes and due to the lack of other ingredients, she was left with only one meal choice. Pancakes.  
Ever since the five/nine hack and the resulting economic crisis, it had been hard to find restaurants or other eating places, which still delivered food. She had lost track of those places who were still affordable and of the various payment methods and which of them were save and which of them not so much.  
She had always been capable of adapting quickly to new situations and didn't need much luxury and convenience and so by now she had almost got used to the new circumstances the hack had brought along. Nevertheless she had the disquieting, unsettling feeling, that this was just the beginning and that society and economy were on the brink of a game-changing war.

She was just about to artistically flip another pancake in the air, when she heard Angela's soft, barefooted steps behind her. She turned around with the pan in her hand to find an extremely different looking Angela standing shyly at the door, obviously being at a loss of what to do next. Dom felt her heart heavy in her chest, when she realized once again that the very person standing in front of her, looking so innocent and pure and youthful was in so much trouble and probably was a very relevant piece of the puzzle, essential to the case.

Then and there she decided that for now, it was just going to be Angela, a girl in need - and herself, Dom, a helpful, friendly stranger, making pancakes - nothing more. That Angela, to her, actually did not seem like a stranger at all did not make matters easier. For months she had been following her and watching her, getting to know her, trying to understand her, trying to get into her skin. And unfortunately, despite the suspicious things Angela had gotten into, Dom liked what she saw.  
She skillfully flipped the pancake in the air and caught it again with ease. When she saw a soft smile form around Angela's mouth, she smiled back at her and for the first time in a very long time she knew she wanted to be able to just let things happen without over analyzing everything. She knew she could afford it, there would come no harm from a quiet, peaceful meal with a young woman who just happened to be involved in what was probably the crime of the century and who chose her, of all people, to go to help for. She was not wholly convinced by her own attempts to justify her behavior, but convinced enough to be able to shut out reason and professional conscience for a while.  
Without her heels Angela was a couple of inches shorter than Dom and now was stepping on Dom's sweatpants' legs, which were actually even too long, for herself. Without makeup and with her lose blond locks framing her soft features she lost the rigor and stern poise she usually carried herself around with. Her face was flushed and her eyes were glimmering in the dim light of the young woman radiated such natural beauty and genuineness, Dom was barely able to keep her eyes off of her. She still seemed burdened and weighed down by sorrow and pain, but at the same time she appeared to move more freely and to allow herself to feel grief and to accept solace.

They sat opposite each other at the little kitchen table, eating silently. Dom was eating, Angela was more or less just picking at her food. But Dom was not offended, she knew how grief could take away one's appetite.  
She scrutinized Angela, who was shoving her food around her plate, still in awe at how different she looked.  
When she noticed she was being observed, Angela blushed and said:" I'm sorry, it's just…I can't get anything down…". "Don't worry!", Dom replied appreciatively, "I understand".  
"You look so different" she then blurted out impulsively, just because she did not know what else to say. After all she was not used to having company, other than co-workers, with whom she usually just talked about work. Angela smiled unfathomably and then seemed to drift off into her own world again. Dom already thought that that was all she would contribute to the conversation, when Angela very softly spoke again: "It's all just costumes, you know?". She sounded almost bitter. But she smiled again and went on speaking: "Can you imagine, I used to be a tomboy growing up, not giving a damn about what to wear and how to dress". Dom smiled, trying to picture a young Angela in shorts and a baseball cap, with scuffed knees and grubby fingers. "Not a care in the world" the grown up Angela mumbled, smiling sadly and Dom hardly dared to comment because this moment seemed so intimate and she did not want to intrude her private memories. "We would have gotten along pretty well", she then answered and smiled at her. Angela locked eyes with her, slightly smiled back at her, reached out her hand and gently put it on top of Dom's, holding her gaze for what seemed like an eternity and then said:" Thank you!" and: " I think I am ready for that whiskey now"  
The hand that was now pouring whiskey into two glasses, was still tingling, from where Angela had just touched her. But she held her hand steady and confidently handed one of the glasses to the woman responsible for her confusing condition. They silently drank from their glasses and Dom was relieved by the instant soothing effect of the alcohol. They had moved back to the couch and Angela now sank into the cushions and pillows looking as tired and worn out as ever. She chugged down her drink, weakly dropped the hand holding the empty glass into her lap and closed her eyes. "I'm gonna let you get some rest", Dom said and was about to get up, when Angela suddenly reached out for her hand and pulled her back in panic. "Please stay", she simply said, but her eyes spoke volumes. She was too scared to be left alone, left alone with her thoughts, her memories, her emptiness, her pain. "Ok, it's ok. I won't go anywhere" Dom conceded and let herself fall back next to Angela. She was still holding on tight to Dom's hand, but when Dom moved closer to her, she lay her head down on her shoulder, closed her eyes again and finally calmed down. She did not let go off her hand, her grip just loosened and her fingers, all tangled up in Dom's, finally grew warm.


End file.
